


i do my best to walk the finest line

by dreamer89



Series: slytherin goals [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Carrows Reign at Hogwarts, Flawed But Human, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Uneasy Allies, road to redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-22 07:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22245886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamer89/pseuds/dreamer89
Summary: Make no mistake, Pansy and Theo aren't heroes. But they call upon their Slytherin values to make it through the Carrows' regime, and if anyone else benefits, well, it's not their concern.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom & Ginny Weasley, Theodore Nott & Pansy Parkinson
Series: slytherin goals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601380
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67





	1. 1997

**1997**

**september - determination**

Theo and Pansy skipped dinner so they could ensure their strategy session in the Slytherin dorms wouldn’t be overheard. They both had to stay vigilant this year; Theo was of age but still hadn’t demonstrated his loyalty by taking the Mark and the Malfoys' precarious standing was a blow to Pansy’s position as well. Her father wasn’t a Death Eater himself, though he fully agreed with their views. His position in business was valuable enough that he could get by with contributing influence and gold to the cause. 

The Carrow twins had taken over as rulers of the House, with Crabbe and Goyle as their muscle. Flora and Hestia had been groomed to become miniature versions of their aunt and uncle since birth. Vince and Greg didn’t mind that they had traded being under Draco’s thumb for the twins’, as long as they got to participate in the violence. Alecto had also taken a special interest in Millicent, who was eager to exact her revenge on anyone who ever ridiculed her. She no longer deferred to Pansy; in fact, Millie relished opportunities to hold her increased status over the other girl. 

So Theo and Pansy had to team up to get through this year. Tracey had shut down, just like she always did at home; Draco favoured this coping strategy as well. Blaise conveniently disappeared at the right moments but could convince anyone that he’d been front and center the entire time. Salazar, Theo had envied that for _years_.

“I have to keep my distance from Daphne in front of the Carrows. They’ll use her as leverage, just like my father did to my mum, with me,” he confided in Pansy. “The Greengrasses have been paying off the Death Eaters to maintain a more neutral appearance. Daph’s continued to keep the money flowing. But what if it isn’t enough one day?” The question went unanswered; he knew Pansy shared similar fears. But Daphne and Theo had the additional problem of Astoria, who was unable to cope with the blows she recently sustained--most notably the knowledge that she had inherited the blood curse.

“I still think we would be better off if they never let Mudbloods like Granger into this school. But this place was supposed to be different from home. It’s not ours anymore,” Pansy stated. 

“It’s only going to get worse,” he warned. “I couldn’t give a toss about the welfare of Muggles and Mudbloods but this is not a cause I’m willing to die for, and believe me, it will come to that. I’m already seventeen and I can only hold out so long.”

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” said Pansy, trying desperately to sound confident. 

“Whatever it takes,” he echoed back. 

**october - self-preservation**

At the end of Dark Arts class, Theo turned to Macmillan, wand drawn. 

“Astoria’s lost the plot,” he said. “So I’m going to keep her away from Daphne, and hope that she can coast on her Sacred Twenty-Eight standing until she comes to her senses. It would be better that she often ends up in Hufflepuff, instead of Slytherin where she could corrupt the younger ones with her disobedience.”

“She’s always been nice to our fifth-years,” he said. “We won’t betray her.”

“Alright. This conversation never happened.” Then he said loudly for the whole class to hear, “Yes, I do think it would be a brilliant idea to learn a curse that would cause a punctured lung. Sounds like the perfect topic for this essay.”

Amycus gave ten points to Slytherin. Good. The Carrows were the only professors whose opinions mattered to his father anymore. 

One night when they were alone in his room, Blaise showed Pansy how his school trunk had a false bottom, revealing the stash within. His latest stepfather had gone out on Death Eater raids and returned home from those houses with all sorts of spoils. Blaise had long been a connoisseur of contraband. Frequently left alone in the summers, he ventured outside into Muggle London and came back with the kind of things that would interest teenagers--dirty magazines, marijuana, cheap Muggle liquor.

But now he was showing Pansy something new. Small bottles, that opened and closed via a strange mechanism, containing tablets of various colours and shapes. He convinced Pansy to try his favourite, which he told her was pronounced “hydro-coh-dawn.” It was ten times stronger than a Calming Draught with the added feeling of something that was like a Cheering Charm, but then again not really.

A better person would have delivered the pills to Gryffindor Tower; Merlin knows they could have used them for the kind of injuries the Carrows were inflicting constantly. Instead, Pansy rationed them out for when she needed to get through the day, and sometimes offered one or two to any of the Slytherins who experienced the consequences of stepping out of line. They helped her lithe frame get even thinner, which she knew in the back of her mind could become dangerous for her, but that didn’t stop her. She should be elated that pureblood law and order was being restored to her world. No one else needed to know what it took to get her to a state that she hoped vaguely resembled happiness.

**november - resourcefulness**

Theo caught Ginny alone in the corridor, too exhausted to stop him from disarming her. He backed her up against the wall, trapping her with one hand on either side. 

“Listen. When it’s me, or Daphne, or Pansy, when they make us practice for Dark Arts, you _will_ fucking scream or I swear I’ll do the spells full-force and bring you back the next day for more.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Nott.” He slammed the wall in frustration, making her recoil.

“You should be! You should know, what I’ve been bred for. Trained for.”

“Scared that you can’t meet the Death Eater standards, yeah? In over your precious pureblood head?” she said disdainfully.

“More like trying to keep my head. If I irritate the Carrows, they’ll owl my father, and then I’ll have to pay for it twice.” He said this looking just to the left of her, unable to meet her eyes.

Ginny touched his arm, just for a second before pulling back. He released her, because he couldn’t take her looking at him like that anymore. 

“Go fuck off back to your foolish blood traitor friends. But I want you to tell them something--when you get hit, you have to turn yourself away from it. Try to tense at first, if you can tell where it’s going to land, then relax.”

She nodded, and looked like she was about to say something else but stopped herself. The two students silently walked off in opposite directions. 

Neville saw the two girls approaching and couldn’t not make his disgust with them known. “Here comes Miss Misanthropy and the daftest excuse for a witch I’ve ever met,” he said.

Tracey glared and raised her wand, but Pansy got there first, casting a Body-Bind.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor. Trace, you go on ahead, I want to have a chat with this one,” Pansy said.

After Tracey turned her back, Pansy dragged him into an empty classroom, locked the door, and released him from the spell. “I won’t curse you, but I do want to speak with you.” There was a pleading in her eyes that Neville had never seen before. He narrowed his eyes, but waited to hear what she would say.

“I want your lot to leave Draco alone. He’s under enough pressure as it is.” Pansy paused. “The only thing that’s saving him at this point is how good of an Occlumens he is. But Amycus thinks it’s funny how little he can resist the Imperius Curse. Reckon he gets off on it, too.”

“War is hell,” responded Neville coldly. “Give me one reason why should we let him off so easily.”

Pansy gave him an anguished smile, and then slowly dropped to her knees. Neville didn’t understand at first, and then he did.

“No--no, I don’t want that! No. For fuck’s sake, Parkinson. You really are pitiful.”

“Being pitiful isn’t fatal, so I’ll take it,” the girl said as she rose to stand again. “Crabbe and Goyle are always looking for a fight, why don’t you have a go at that low-hanging fruit if you want some more bruises to add to your collection. You’re just as fucking mental as your--” _Parents_ , she wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. She saw the flash of hurt in his eyes; he got the message anyway. “Careful, there. Don’t show your hand to them like you just did to me,” she snapped, and went to find Tracey.

**december - cunning**

Theo walked into the Muggle Studies classroom, and slammed his book on the desk next to Ginny’s, making her jump.

“You look like hell; I imagine you haven’t been able to complete your essay. Well, I’ve become a swot when it comes to this class, so I’ll volunteer to share all five feet of mine aloud and ensure that I get all of Alecto’s attention today.”

Ginny made a noise of protest. 

“Unless you want me to show off what I’ve been revising for Dark Arts instead,” he said warningly. She shook her head, shoulders slumping a bit.

Alecto ate it up, thrilled with all of the horrible concepts Theo had managed to weave together. He continued to submit longer and longer assignments after that. His performance in Muggle Studies even reached his father, who sent him a letter full of backhanded compliments. He chucked it in the fire and turned back to his schoolwork. 

No one noticed when it happened, but several genealogy books mysteriously disappeared from the Hogwarts library.

The same day, Pansy cornered Ginny and Neville outside the Gryffindor common room entrance, slashing their bags open so books and supplies spilt everywhere. She put down the box she had been carrying into the middle of the mess, cancelling the lightening spell so it landed with a large thud. 

“Gather your things before you disrupt my path any further,” she demanded. Then she lowered her voice. “I’m sure the Carrows would love to know just how infested the Gryffindor first-year class is, but there are no half-bloods in Slytherin,” and repeated that last clause before she stalked off. It would be the last thing she ever did on Millicent Bulstrode’s behalf. Pansy didn’t have to question why Neville looked so confident the day he asked Alecto how much Muggle blood she had.


	2. 1998

**1998**

**march - loyalty**

Amycus called on Pansy to read aloud from a Dark Arts book, and Theo knew she was immediately panicking. They had never talked about it much, but Pansy struggled with reading and acted like she simply didn’t care about schoolwork in order to hide it. Amycus quickly grew frustrated, sending Stinging Hexes at Pansy for going too slowly, which of course made it even harder for her.

“She’s just tired from the detention you made her help with last night, why don’t you actually teach us some Dark Arts instead of relying on us to do it for you?” Theo asked snidely. 

Amycus turned his attention to him. “I will not tolerate insolence! I don’t care who your father is, I’m going to make an example of you,” he said. Then he ordered Theo to the front of the class. 

He didn’t cry out when the blow came, just wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. Amycus’s face twisted, and then he slashed his wand several times, causing long thin cuts to appear: below his collarbone, on his bicep, over his ribs. Never deep enough to really cause problems, Theo knew straightaway, but enough to send that old familiar mixture of humiliation and fear down his spine.

He patched himself up, with Pansy’s help, in the Slytherin dorms. 

Alecto caught Theo falling asleep in her class and started screaming at him, then threw a book at his head which he barely dodged.

“Maybe if you were a better teacher, he wouldn’t be so bored,” said Pansy before she could really start in on him. That earned her a slap across the face, then Alecto fired off a curse that gave her a pounding headache and made sure it didn’t wear off before the end of the lesson.

She was forced to apologise before leaving the room, which she did, because she wasn’t as recklessly brave as Neville was in the Carrows’ presence. 

In the corridor, Millicent grabbed her by the hair and shoved her against the wall, because she could. Pansy wasn’t surprised; before this year she too had always enjoyed opportunities to assert her power over another girl. Theo was there in a flash, putting his arm around Pansy and walking her to her next class. 

**april - fraternity**

Astoria found Pansy wandering around the castle late that night, and choked back a sob when she saw her friend's clothing in disarray and her thousand-yard stare. 

She took Pansy’s hand and walked them to the seventh floor, where she went inside what Pansy knew must be the Room of Hidden Things. She emerged with Neville, who approached Pansy cautiously. 

“I’m not going to hurt you; I’m just going to do a Disillusionment Charm, alright?” he said in a gentle tone that Pansy had never heard from him before. “Then Astoria will take you back to your room, and no one will see you.”

She nodded, and he raised his wand, but then hesitated. “Unless...it’s never too late, Pansy. If you want to come with me.”

“And let my mates suffer the consequences of my betrayal? I don’t think so,” she responded. “Just tell the other Houses that Death Eaters are dropping by the school for visits now, and they shouldn’t be walking alone.”

Theo and Daphne had stayed at the castle for Easter, and they made sure Pansy didn’t starve herself to death, although they couldn’t get her to do much else. All Pansy wanted to do was be alone now. She slept fully-dressed, wand in her hand. It could happen again. Nowhere in the castle was safe. Almost no one could be trusted.

Ginny didn’t come back after the Easter holidays, and honestly Theo was relieved that she had gone into hiding with her family. The Carrows were out of control, and Dumbledore’s Army constantly winding them up didn’t help. Theo had to focus all of his attention on his friends, because they needed him to be strong.

Draco returned having sustained torture for letting Potter, Weasley and Granger escape from the Manor. The two couples locked themselves in Draco’s room; Astoria and Daphne held each other and cried while Theo petted Draco’s hair just like he had done when they were children, before Lucius shouted at them for being so disgraceful and weak. 

“I don’t think I believe in this anymore,” he whispered, so only Theo could hear.

“I know. We just have to survive, alright?” Theo said. 

_Whatever it takes_ , _whatever it takes_. From the time he woke up in the morning, Theo’s mind would be chanting those words. His prediction had been correct--the stakes were high. He had to be ready for anything. 


	3. 1998, after the war

**september, after the war - ambition**

“Afternoon, Ginny, Neville,” Astoria bellowed for everyone in the vicinity to hear as she approached the two Gryffindors sitting in the courtyard. “I’ve just been socialising with the Dark Wizards’ Harlot and the Damaged Son of a Murderer, and then later I’ll be seeing my Deranged, Teenaged, Ex-Death Eater boyfriend. Just in case anyone wants to know where the school’s High-Strung, Tragic Alcoholic is.” 

Rita Skeeter had finally turned on some of her favourite sources and this morning’s newspaper had included a wealth of reporting about Astoria and her friends.

The Slytherin girl sat down, and said in her normal voice, “I said we should make a new round of badges based how the _Prophet_ labelled us, but my mates weren’t quite ready for that joke yet.”

“Astoria, we do _not_ need any more badges around this place,” Ginny said, having no desire to add that to the list of things she had to deal with as Head Girl.

“Fine, but then I tried to tell them that Harry Potter was constantly maligned in the press, and look how things worked out for him. That went over even worse,” she said, making Neville chuckle before a serious look swept over his face.

“They’re not going to try to start up old feuds over this, are they? I don’t want any problems from Slytherins this year,” he said, ready to swiftly retaliate even if they were Astoria’s friends or Housemates.

“I will keep them all in line,” she said confidently. “Maybe this will convince you.” She reached into her bag and pulled out several folders of various thicknesses. Neville could read the labels as she began to reorganise them: _Slytherins’ Strengths to Prioritise_ , _Everyone’s Weaknesses to Exploit_ , _Flattering Photographs In Case I Go Missing_ , _NEWT Past Papers_ , and finally, the one she apparently had been looking for, _Blackmail Material_. 

“I’ve been working on this since second year,” she said proudly, showing off the folder. “Ah ah ah, these are for my eyes only,” and snatched it away before Ginny could make a grab for it.

“Why are you doing all this? You didn’t seem to care about your future at all before the battle,” Ginny said curiously. 

“I was the lucky one, for a while, regardless of what side you were on. Because I knew I was going to die young no matter what. And there was a freedom in that...plastered by half nine? Fraternising with the DA? Sleeping with the youngest Death Eater? Why not do it all?” Wearing a wry smile, she looked up and blinked a few times. “But then I had to go and fall for him, and now, I have to fight against the clock to get what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“After I’m gone, I want my friends to be safe and not skint and at least somewhat happy. I want to have a child, and even if I am able to, I don’t know how long I’ll be around for that child. So I need to make sure that my chosen family will be equipped to deal with all the options: if that child inherits the curse, or is a Squib, or falls in love with a Muggle--or, for all I know, a Potter or a Weasley. So, Salazar, give me strength, because I know I’ll need it.”

The three were quiet for a few moments.

“Do you rehearse these little speeches?” Ginny asked.

“Sometimes,” she confessed, laughing. 

“Right, well I better get back to doing damage control,” Astoria said while packing up. She raised her voice again to declare to anyone who could hear, “As the leader of the newly-dubbed _Conspiratorial Squad_ , I would like to announce that we are _not_ recruiting,” She winked at the two Gryffindors before departing.

Ginny and Neville shared a grin; they had both enjoyed that headline’s callback to the days of Umbridge and relished the payback. But they had already agreed that the _Prophet_ had been out of order with some of the things that were said about the Slytherins, especially Parkinson and Nott. Of course Ginny was still angry over what Parkinson had done right before the battle, but it wasn’t right to call her a slag when Avery was the only perpetrator of the crime. Theo wasn’t responsible for what his father had done and shouldn’t have to shoulder the public’s scrutiny since Nott Senior would never again see the light of day.

None of them were the same people they had been before the war, Pansy and Theo included. They didn’t have the energy for fighting anymore; not with the nightmares, the hypervigilance, the difficulty concentrating on basic tasks. _Spell-shock_ , Ginny’s dad told her it used to be called, but now there was a more complicated name for it. 

Nobody had told Ginny that winning a war would be this fucking painful.

Nobody had told Neville that coming out on top would leave him feeling so hollow.

Somehow, they thought the Slytherins might understand the best out of anyone.

Neville saw Pansy approach two younger Ravenclaws on an afternoon where the weather was still so warm that it drew nearly all the students outside.

“Is that a Muggle cigarette?” she demanded, and they failed valiantly at trying to hide it from her. “It goes this way,” she said simply, taking a fresh one out of the pack and pointing the filter end towards the fifth-year’s mouth. After commanding them to light one for her as well, she caught Neville watching her. Pansy raised her hands as if to say, _what do you want me to do?_ , before sending him the first real smile he thought he’d ever seen from her.

It didn’t have a name on it, but Ginny recognised the parchment that had been tacked to the door of the Muggle Studies classroom overnight. It spanned the entire length--about seven feet. The original black ink had been marked up with red, annotations spilling into the margins. The revisions completely deconstructed all of the shit about Muggle-born witches and wizards that Alecto had spouted for months. Even Hermione felt the new version was exceptionally well written and cited. 

“Do you know who did this?” Hermione asked her, and she nodded in response. The group of students gathered around looked to her with bated breath.

“If the student wants to remain anonymous, I think we should respect that.” She paused. “Fifty points to Slytherin,” she said, and went to slip a note under McGonagall’s office door.


End file.
